


Soothe you, calm you and annoint you

by basically_thearlaich



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But it's still new, Drug Use, Established Relationship, F/M, Making Out, One-Shot, Recreational Drug Use, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:41:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25976098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basically_thearlaich/pseuds/basically_thearlaich
Summary: She has no taste he can name, but he loses himself in it all the same.
Relationships: CT-7567 | Rex/Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 5
Kudos: 52





	Soothe you, calm you and annoint you

**Author's Note:**

> I just got into TCW and am a mostly unapologetic Rexsoka shipper - obviously I dismiss the age-gap, which is why this piece is also _not_ canon or adheres in any way to the canon-age-gap.

+++

“No,” she says gently, “don‘t move.”

It‘s a hard thing to do, he thinks, and tilts his lips at his own pun. But he listens. Stays where he is, bedded underneath her on the fresh sheets. It’s been a good idea to change them, he thinks. If only for this. They‘re both buzzed from the joint that had passed the round just half an hour before between the two of them and his flatmates and he can still hear them on the couch in the living room, shooting Droids in a video game.

Behind the closed door of his room, Mary Magdalen is soothing Jesus Christ Superstar and his hands span the hips of Ahsoka Tano.

She‘s never been this close, he thinks. Hands on his chest, looking down at him like she can see through his skin. Like she is debating where to reach into his chest to get her hands around his heart.

Here she is, the woman he‘s been throwing looks at for months before daring to move, straddling him with full, strong thighs, warming his sides. Her skirt hides the Between of her legs, where he can feel her heat against his and the tips of his fingers easily caress the maroon synth-silk on the outer side of her thighs, where he can tickle skin if he is daring enough.

He wants to sit up. Wants to pull her close. _Wants to be daring_. _Wants to see how far she’ll let him_. But he listens to her.

They have only kissed until now. Chaste kisses at that. For weeks. Going by their recent behaviour, this is a grave escalation. And it gives him the tingles down to his toes. Or maybe that‘s the weed kicking in, he‘s not too certain right now.

It‘s a good feeling.

Her hands span his ribcage, as if measuring him, lean softly against his skin, then harder, make it hard to breathe for a moment before she lets up. When he finds her eyes, they are sharp with unabashed focus, the kind he doesn‘t remember having had from her yet. She has always been curiously shy of looking him directly into the eyes. And now that she does, he wonders what she sees.

Her hands move again and he feels them acutely even through his shirt. Warmth against his ribs, then his stomach, then on his skin. Electrifying. He closes his eyes. Listens to her hum and the echo of it in her spreading fingers. Nails that graze against his pebbling skin. Her hands move but don‘t stray. The sensuality of it is strangely soothing and he realizes he could fall asleep like this: throat bared to the woman on top of him, fully dressed. It wouldn‘t be the worst way to fall asleep.

“May I kiss you?”

His eyes open briefly, lazily and he swallows air as if taking in concentration _._ She‘s focussed on him – his face. His lips, he thinks. He swallows. “Yeah.”

The kiss is chaste, as she bends forward. Pushes their middles closer, tighter. Lips distract him from the feeling, meet his, plush and warm and soft and just a little bit roughened. Tender. Exploring.

Until that nip. The tiny, careful show of teeth against his lips that had been there in their first kiss as well. He chases after it, raises his hands around her waist, spreads his thumbs over her clothed stomach – feels the muscles he‘s not certain he‘d see when she pulls back ever so slightly. An undulation of her upper body before she does it again, encouraged. Draws his lower lip in, suckles.

His head is a pleasant buzz of warmth and agreement and he exhales into the opening of their mouths, feels her hands slide up his body, up around his shoulders, barely hindered by the loose shirt, as he sits up.

She doesn’t stop him this time. Hums into the arm that winds around her lower back, moves her closer even if he’s afraid he of the crick in his neck if he is going to be staying in this position any longer.

She is warm. A comforting weight on him, soft and inviting and her lips are chapped at odd spots, but welcoming against his and her tongue twists around his in a way he can’t fully catalogue or follow. If his inexperience bothers her, she doesn’t show it. Her hands move away from his shoulders, slide out of his shirt, return to his neck, the short buzz of his hair, fingernails scratching against his skull.

She has no taste he can name, but he loses himself in it all the same.

+++


End file.
